


Sacrificial Lamb

by Loki Laufeyson (KingLoki)



Series: 33 Shades Verse [2]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, For story reasons, Happy Halloween!!, Smutty sacrifices ahoy!, Twisting of Old Norse tradition, tasertricks - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-01
Updated: 2014-11-01
Packaged: 2018-02-23 11:03:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2545229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KingLoki/pseuds/Loki%20Laufeyson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Dark Elves will not be satisfied without an offering on the most hallowed of eves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sacrificial Lamb

**Author's Note:**

> Just a glimpse into the Pagan art of sacrifices. It's a somewhat contorted version of the Old Norse traditions in order to fit within my Jötunn world. I highly doubt that there were blue giants and sex magic in the original practice of this sacrifice. ;]

Faint candlelight was the only source of anything bright in the large space. It was so eerily quiet that you could hear your own breath.  
  
A muted blue could be seen, cutting through the dim light like a safety blanket to Darcy's squinted eyes.  
  
The hand on her left arm radiated confidence, comfort, even warmth — not the kind that keeps you from shivering, but the kind that imbues itself through your entire spirit, leaving you yearning for more.  
  
" _Dökkalfar, dökk álfur köllum við heilagt völd þín til að blessa okkur fyrir veturinn mánuði að koma. Láta okkur ekki í sjóðandi myrkri þínu — en veita aumur á okkur og koma með fé af ís._ ”  
  
Velvety, low words painted an alluring picture in her mind. She still wasn’t fully adept at the Jötunn tongue, but she could pick out a few parts of the speech that struck a chord within.  
  
Back home, she would be putting on some ridiculous costume and dragging her roomie Jane to a tacky Halloween party with shitty booze and dirty sex-inducing techno music. But here, shielded from the snowstorm in a cavern the size of her old apartment, Darcy felt closer to the spirits than she’d ever thought possible. That she was able to think about such a thing was a huge leap forward.  
  
 _“Spirits my pasty white ass!” she’d say just a few years before. “Ghosts are some dumb kid’s idea of scaring gullible kids into giving over their trick or treat stash. C’mon, how real was Paranormal Activity? Pssh.”_  
  
Here on the icy planet of Jötunheimr, she swallowed her ignorance and pride. Here, ghosts were not only real, they were sacred. Ancestors were revered and called upon. Here, myth was reality.  
  
“I give you this sacrifice as the crown prince of my world… without fear, without pride. Only with the honour of my ancestors and their ancestors before them. _Dökkalfar, dökk álfur köllum við heilagt völd þín til að blessa okkur fyrir veturinn mánuði að koma._ "  
  
A flicker of the candle painted the muted blue into a small rainbow of colour: black, grey, orange, purple. Loki’s skin almost glowed as his hands traced over his vest, each closure coming smoothly away, leaving behind bare midnight flesh.  
  
She crossed her legs tighter, willing the twisting serpent in her stomach to uncoil and fall into a peaceful slumber. Even on their wedding night, she’d never felt this nervous. (But that whole situation was another matter entirely, reserved for a different chapter to recollect.)  
  
“Cloth,” his voice murmured, fingers peeling away the modest grey material and letting it fall to the altar.  
  
As practised, Darcy took that as her cue to unbutton the top of her simple cream shift. She tried to ignore the slight tremble of her fingers when they passed over each velveteen surface. Pale, starlight-washed skin was exposed to the slight chill in the cavern. A smattering of goose pimples raised in her fingers' wake.

"Hair," he continued softly. Candlelight glinted menacingly off of the small knife in his grasp. A lock of wispy raven fell first on the pile, and she let her head fall back so he could cut a chestnut curl, joining its dark companion on the altar.

Darcy turned towards him, a touch of hesitancy in her feet just before she rose to face him.

Loki's shadowed eyes met hers. He looked so concentrated, so steady and devout, and that intensity stroked the serpent's head, prompted it to start its slow uncoiling from her belly.

"Life blood." The words were simple, but sharp. A quick intake of breath was all she allowed herself as the blade made contact with her right palm. Along with his left, their joined hands trickled slender crimson rivulets onto the altar.

"Fire," he said with an edge to his tone. As though it physically pained him to pick up the candle and lower it to the collected items.

They each knelt before one another, bared from the waist up with slashed hands joined. The small light grew into a flame that engulfed the surface of the altar, and within that mesmerising glow, Loki whispered the last offering:

"Seed from which life springs."

Darcy shut her eyes for a fleeting second. When she opened them again, Loki was hovering inches before her, his eyes blazing.

Before she could take a breath, his lips crushed hers and she fell backwards onto the fluffy woollen blankets. His right hand skimmed down the bare skin of her belly, lightly stroking before he pushed the rest of her shift back. She did the same for him, trailing shaky fingers through the black down at his navel, index finger and thumb pulling the clasp free.

He untangled his bloody hand from hers to trace her side, his heated gaze following the trail of red that was left behind. She clutched at his head as he lowered his lips to her belly.

Soft, fluttery kisses set her heart thudding. If she could utter a word, she would already be murmuring his name.

Little kisses morphed into sucking and nibbling. All across her hip, Loki's hands led the way and his mouth followed, tongue tracing across the small marks that bloomed over the bone. Her fingers tightened and pulled on a few black strands as she tried to even her breathing. Just then, Loki pulled away and smiled at her little whimper.

Rising to his knees, he removed his linen trousers and sat there completely nude. Darcy rose to meet him, her shift fluttering like a whisper against the ground beside discarded linen.

Wordlessly, he beckoned his wife forward. Their mouths met again; sweeter this time, less harsh. Loki circled his arms around her waist and pulled her tightly to him. Their hips met and she shivered for a very different reason. The hard flesh pressing against her pubic bone made her want to grind on him like a slutty girl at the dance club.

Before long, her hands gripped his ass and tugged at the taut muscle, daring him to make the next move. He upped the game from chaste kisses to biting at her mouth, seeking entrance with a low growl. His tongue was relentless, drawing hers in, coiling around her like the serpent in her belly. She was just about to bite back when she felt the pinch at her nipples. _That sneaky bastard!_

Her moan was swallowed up when he pushed her back again. His knees parted her thighs and he dipped down to tease her clit with the tip of his cock. Breaking the kiss, Darcy's hands clutched to his sides and she instinctively lifted her hips, seeking friction, but the smug jerk held her down without so much as a smirk. Almost like an apology, he kneaded a breast while leaning in to lave the opposite nipple. She sighed in contentment at the gentle treatment.

Loki's other hand slid across her thigh like a spider inching its way forward. Free to move, Darcy's hips lifted just a bit and she was rewarded with two fingers sinking into her. The slick, sucking sound of his fingers pulling out, then plunging back in flushed her cheeks. She felt the smile against her breast as he caught a glance.

Kisses started up her chest and along the column of her throat, each leaving behind a trail of wet marks. Their mouths met for another deep kiss.

Darcy's arms pulled Loki in and her hips pressed flush against his. He finally buried himself to the hilt, his chest rumbling softly with his moan.

The first withdrawal and thrust were slow, taking his time.

Light danced along Loki's cheekbones and brow, warmed his skin, casting him in a gentle blue glow. Amidst their kiss, Darcy's eyes opened a bit and took all of him in. It was still so new, being able to hold him and call him her husband. That they were doing this right now, performing a sacred ritual alone together, with the rest of the night all their own… the thudding in her heart sped up, and for a moment, she felt like she could take on the world.

She threw more of herself into the ritual. Hands kneaded at buttocks and hip, dragging nails along the sharp ridges of his spine. His groans escalated, followed by pants as their kisses broke one after another, their mingled breath exchanging gasps and groans. His hips snapped faster and tighter, just dipping into her tight cunt before pulling back out.

 _Please_ , her body pleaded, _pleasepleaseplease_.

The glyphs along his back began a slow burn beneath her fingers. Darcy tightened her thighs against his hipbones and drew him in by the tight hold on the backs of his thighs.

Loki dragged her legs over his shoulders, grinning like the cat that got the cream as he started a punishing rhythm. Darcy braced herself with hands against his sharp hipbones. Her moans turned into short, gasping breaths as she threw her head back. The tendons in her neck strained from the effort of keeping steady.

She could feel the sharp rise of heat spearing through her, but it was too fast, too rough. His cock ran through her like a man possessed.

"Nnnggg," she muttered incoherently. Words threatened to spill from her lips, so she clamped down and squeezed her eyes shut.

Loki's panting got heavier — the glyphs along his arms glowed brightly. She clenched around him and he groaned, low and long as a hot stream filled her up.

Before she could drop her legs, his thumb rubbed wide circles into her clit and seconds later, Darcy was screaming her release into the heavy air of the cave.

It was silent for a long time. Loki's spent cock was still twitching inside of her and she winced at the little clenches that followed. _That was intense_.

" _Ek elska þik, elskuna mína_," he whispered against the shell of her ear, followed by a soft kiss. Darcy smiled and shut her eyes. They lay together like that for a while longer, before he gradually hardened again and they picked up where they left off, no longer bound by completing the ritual.

The flames had long since extinguished, leaving them in cool darkness, only the light of their eyes keeping them company.

She really _could_ take on the world. Or at least the rest of the night.

**Author's Note:**

> Translations:  
> \- "Dark elf, we call upon your sacred powers to bless us for the winter months to come. Leave us not in your boiling darkness — but grant pity on us and bring a bounty of ice."  
> \- "Dark elf, we call upon your sacred powers to bless us for the winter months to come."  
> \- "I love you, my darling/sweetheart."


End file.
